Primal Instincts_ Volume 2(36)
Author: Nicole Edwards

 

“Goddamn it, Garrison. This was a fucked up situation already. Why’d you have to go and make it worse?”

 

I heard the door open, so I turned to look at him. “Let’s talk about this later.”

 

His eyes narrowed.

 

“Dinner. Tonight. My treat. Wherever you wanna go.”

 

“You think I’m the only one you have to answer to?” He huffed. “You’ll have to face the music sooner or later. You can’t avoid Creed forever.”

 

His footsteps faded as he stormed out.

 

I exhaled roughly.

 

I wasn’t worried about facing Creed. He was the least of my worries. What I couldn’t do was continue to hide from Journey. It was a chickenshit move on my part, and I’d regretted it the second I drove away from Journey’s parents’ house. I’d wanted nothing more than to go back, to slide into her bed so I could hold her for the rest of her life.

 

I’d never felt this way about a woman before. Not even the ones I thought I’d been in love with during my lifetime. There’d only been a few. But not one of them had made me feel what Journey made me feel. It wasn’t rational, but at some point, I’d gone and fallen in love with the woman without meaning to. And now, I had to figure out a way to coexist in her world because there was no doubt in my mind she would choose Creed.

 

They always chose Creed.

 

 

 

 

 

19

 

 

 

 

 

Journey

 

 

Around four o’clock, the office started to thin out. Evidently, many departments worked extra hard during the first part of the week so they could do that. And now they were kicking off their weekend while my butt was still planted in my chair because I had agreed to wait for Creed.

 

Not that I had anything better to do. Since my parents weren’t coming home today, and Rhylee had boarded herself up in her writing cave now that her muse was well-lubricated, I didn’t have anyone waiting for me when I walked out the door. Taking one of the online classes I was required to take as an extension of the new hire onboarding process was my way of pretending work was keeping me here and not the impending pity party I would be throwing later.

 

I was debating how I wanted to spend the weekend even as I listened with half an ear to the dull repetition of the pre-recorded video. I didn’t mind sitting at home by myself, but if I did, I risked dwelling on the ridiculousness of my social life. And staring at my phone, wondering if Hawk, Creed, or Garrison would text or call would likely cause me to need therapy. It was hard enough not to think about them when I had more important things to do. With nothing on my agenda, it was safe to say I would go stir-crazy.

 

By four-thirty, the only person still in my department was Cheryl, but I had heard her talking to her husband on the phone earlier. They had some kind of school pageant to go to for one of their granddaughters, so he was picking her up. Any minute now, she’d leave, and I’d have no choice but to venture out myself.

 

The video ended, so I hurried through the five-question test. I clicked the completed button at the same time Cheryl wandered over to tell me she was heading out, and I should, too.

 

“The next couple of weeks will be busy,” she said, standing in the open doorway. “You should enjoy the lull while you can. We’ve got a lot to do before the upcoming charity event.”

 

“Charity event?” Apparently, I wasn’t getting the company newsletter, or this was top secret and Cheryl had let the cat out of the bag.

 

“The online drive starts two weeks before the actual party. You’ll be fighting for time with your team because they’ll be busy helping.”

 

I wasn’t sure what one of these events entailed, so I nodded as though I understood. As had been the case so far, I’d probably learn all the details a few hours before the deadline.

 

“The first charity event of the year always sets a precedent for those that follow,” she said, pulling out her phone when it chimed from her purse. “Last year, we had a good turnout, but I don’t think it was what they’d been hoping for. They’ll try to top it this year.”

 

Again, I wasn’t sure what any of that meant. I assumed she was referring to raising money.

 

“How many are there a year?” I asked.

 

“Usually one per quarter.”

 

Cheryl’s phone chirped. “Well, that’s my ride. I’ll see you on Monday,” she said with a small wave before heading for the door.

 

Because I wasn’t eager to be alone, I spent another twenty minutes tidying up my inbox before I gave in. Although Creed had told me to wait, I wasn’t a damn dog he could confine to a kennel until he was ready to bring me out to entertain him. There was a good chance something shiny had caught his attention, and he’d forgotten all about me.

 

Feeling my frustration ignite, I retrieved my bag from my desk drawer, then stood up to stretch. I was leaning down to lock my computer when someone cleared their throat.

 

“I’m leaving, Cheryl. I promise.”

 

“And here I thought you were going to wait.”

 

My gaze snapped to the man standing in my doorway. Or rather, leaning.

 

Creed had one shoulder propped on the doorjamb, a hand in his pocket, and his ankles crossed as he studied me from a few feet away. It probably shouldn’t, but seeing him filled me with a strange giddy sensation. He was still wearing the same suit from earlier, but he was winding down some. His inky black hair was a little disheveled, his jacket and tie were gone, his brilliant white dress shirt was untucked, and the top button was open at the throat, revealing a glimpse of his smooth, golden skin and the barest hint of a tattoo.

 

“I was waiting,” I assured him. “But Cheryl told me I should head out.” I waved toward the elevator. “She just left.”

 

Creed glanced out into the hallway, then back to me. “I saw her. Off to see her granddaughter sing.”

 

I wasn’t sure why, but it surprised me that he knew that little detail. Considering he was the CEO, I figured it would be challenging to keep up with things like that. My research into the company told me they had roughly six hundred employees, with a majority of those dedicated to sales. That number seemed too big for the CEO to remember small details about each person.

 

His eyes crinkled, and I detected the hint of a smile, but he didn’t say anything.

 

I stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what his angle was. It was difficult to keep my anger in check. What Creed had done … playing with Garrison and me the way he had … it was wrong. At the very least, he should feel remorse for it, right? And now that my focus wasn’t entirely on Wayne the Fucker, I could tap into my previous irritation and redirect some of it to this man.